


I Found You

by author_morgan



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, besides Alexios Brasidas is the ONLY long term man, look i just finished the Torment of Hades and, platonic BFF Alexios, so have some fluff and angst with Brasidas and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22291879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/author_morgan/pseuds/author_morgan
Summary: Alexios doesn't expect the death of one friend to lead him back to another.
Relationships: Alexios (Assassin's Creed)/Reader, Brasidas/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	I Found You

ALEXIOS STANDS ON the docks of Sami, bottom lip quivering as he watches a ship sail with the rising sun. His best friend is aboard the ship, leaving Kephallonia for a new life elsewhere. Ikaros perches on his shoulder –unable to take to the skies given the splint on his left wing– and Markos clasps onto his other.

He remembers the day you told him the news. It was the same day a group of older boys had thrown stones at Ikaros and broke his wing. _“What do you mean? You can’t leave!” He shouts, causing you to jump while tying the strip of linen around the eagle’s lame wing. You hope you’ve learned well enough from the village healer to ensure Alexios’s companion will fly again._

_“I don’t want to,” you tell him. Kephallonia is the only home you’ve known. Others see the island as a curse or a prison it is yours and Alexios’s kingdom and one day you will outgrow it. “But mater and pater-” Alexios grips onto your shoulders, cutting you off. “You can stay with me! Ikaros and I will be your family.”_

_You shake your head. Kephallonia does not hold a future for you, nor does it hold one for your friend. “We’ll see each other again one day,” you tell him._

_“I’ll find you,” he vows, and you wrap your arms around him_. When the ship is no longer visible on the horizon, Markos guides him from the docks and gives him several jobs to take his mind of you.

* * *

DUTIES HAVE KEPT you apart for too long. He has been at war with Athens and the few times he has returned to Sparta, you have been away in Arkadia –tending to your widowed mother. But this time it seems as though fate will allow you to be reunited for a short while in Lakonia. He exits the throne room and breathes in the spring air, the scent of wildflowers heavy on the cool breeze. “Brasidas!” You cry, spotting him from the agora. He smiles as you bound toward him and into his arms.

“My love,” he breathes into the crown of your head, but despair taints the endearment.

Frowning, you step back to look up at him, hands lingering on his arms. “What is it?” You ask even though you have a premonition about what has soured your reunion.

Brasidas glances toward the throne room and considers the orders Eurypontid king had given him. Reports say Athens is gathering reinforcements and threaten the people of Makedonia. “I must sail for Amphipolis,” he admits, eyes downcast. He has seen enough bloodshed for two lifetimes, but when Sparta calls –he must answer.

You touch his cheek, fingers brushing over the scar below his eye. You can still remember the day he came limping back from the docks after winning a laurel in Methoni, using his spear as a crutch –face a bloody mess. “But you’ve only just returned to me.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. He dares not show more affection than that in public –not until you are finally wedded, at least. “And my heart will ache until I can hold you in my arms again,“ he tells you. “Walk with me?” Brasidas asks, extending his arm for you to take. From the agora, he leads you past the statue of Leonidas toward a small stream and patch of poppies.

Pylos feels like a lifetime ago, but the wound on his leg still is not fully healed. The injury made him realize he’d been fighting with too much hubris and not honor as of late. It also causes him to contemplate life and death and what he would be leaving behind. He cannot bear the thought of you withering away in sadness and heartbreak because of him. “Should something befall me-” Brasidas begins, but you are quick to place your finger against his lips, gently hushing him.

“Don’t speak like that,“ you breathe.

A smile pulls at his lips. He grips onto your wrist, pulls your hand closer to his mouth and presses a lingering kiss against the center of your palm. Brasidas knows you do not wish to speak of hypotheticals in which he does not return, but it must be said. His gut tells him Amphipolis will be a battleground like no other. “If the Keres take me to meet Hades I would ask that you do not dwell on the past.” The Spartan general takes your face into his rough hands and runs his thumbs across your cheeks, catching the tears that betray you.

“Live and find happiness, for me.” You bite down on your tongue and nod, but he attempts to chase away your worries with his lips. Outside of battle and politics, Brasidas is a gentle man and you could not ask for a better man to become your husband. You had once been angry disheartened after leaving Kephallonia and learning of the arranged marriage –but your parents swore they’d picked a good man from a noble family, one who could love and protect you. They had been right. When Brasidas holds you close –as he is now– you feel as though nothing bad could ever happen.

The following day you follow him and his men to Gytheion where the ships await. Brasidas caresses your cheek one last time –he will not see a sight so fair ‘til he returns. Leaning into the touch, your eyes slip shut, and you do not see him leaning in toward you until his beard tickles your chin and his lips brush over yours. “Return with your shield, Spartan-” you whisper, parting. “-or on it,” he finishes. You give a solitary nod as your beloved steps back then turns to board the ship.

* * *

THE PERSON STANDING before you looks more god than man but he knows your name and nearly falls to his knees when you turn to face him –as though he has seen a ghost. Then you see them –the broken spear of Leonidas on his back and Ikaros– and waves of emotions and memories crash upon you like rocks in a stormy sea when you look into his dark eyes. “Alexios?” He’s a far cry from the boy you once knew on Kephallonia.

Alexios nods and takes your hands into his own. He can hardly believe you’re standing in front of him. There was a time when he’d given up hope, even if you had said that one day you’d meet again. Though Sparta is the last place he thought to find you -you’d dreamt of Athens and the islands as a girl. He’d been foolish enough to promise that one day he would take you there and across all the Greek world if you wanted. “What are you doing in Sparta?” He asks.

Tears have only just dried on your cheeks. “I was meant to wed one of the officers-“ you look away from Alexios and toward the small home you and Brasidas shared when the gods were kind enough to reunite you. "But he has not returned from Amphipolis. I don’t think he will,” you admit.

The Eagle Bearer follows you to the small cottage where he had placed his fallen friend’s broken spear and shield and feels a lump rise in his throat as he pieces everything together. Brasidas’s shield lies on the table next to two halves of a once whole spear, but there is no sign of him. Alexios catches you in his arms after your legs give –whole body trembling– and eases you both down to the earthen floor. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.

_Live and find happiness, for me_. But the wound is too fresh and you cannot begin to fathom a life without him. “You knew Brasidas?“ You ask.

Alexios nods, brushing back the hair from your damp forehead. “I considered him a friend.” A friend it seems he knew little about, in truth. “He never mentioned you, though,” he admits.

A sad smile appears on your lips, and a breathy laugh escapes them. “Brasidas was never one to mix duty and pleasure.” He only ever spoke of militaristic matters to you when he was preparing to leave for battle. Your mother once said Brasidas was the most diplomatic Spartan she’d ever met.

Slowly, you start to compose yourself –at least on the outside. Alexios helps you stand, his hand lingering on your arm. “Will you stay for dinner?” You ask, eyes lingering on a basket of grain and fruit.

Both you and Alexios sit at the table again, now cleared of dishes and leftovers, nursing cups of watered wine. You both have so much to say and no idea where to start. Today’s reunion hadn’t been under circumstances either of you ever dreamed of and that undoubtedly sours the air. He reaches across the table, gripping onto one of your hands. “Come with me,” Alexios says. He has a ship now and can make good on his promise to take you across the Greek world.

* * *

THE TARNISHED GOLD trim on Brasidas’s shield glints in the warm light of one of the _Adrestia’s_ braziers. The old shield has protected you well since joining Alexios. Tonight you and he sat next to one another –arms and legs pressed together– having set sail from Kos at dusk. He tells you about Athens and the people he’d met in his travels there. “And Sokrates?” You inquire, noting he seems to have left out a prominent Athenian.

The Eagle Bearer rolls his eyes at the mention of the philosopher –and friend. “Rumors are true, he loves the sound of his own voice.“ He could always count on Sokrates to give him a headache, though perhaps in a way he had come to enjoy their little debates. A bright light streaks across the dark sky, fading as quickly as it appeared. A falling star. “Did you see that?” Alexios whispers, pointing to the heavens.

You nod and lean your head on his shoulder. Alexios turns, nose pressing into your hair. Sighing, he kisses your temple and settles back with a smile. It is good to have his best friend by his side once more. You’re smiling too, though there is still a pang of sorrow in your heart that refuses to fade. _I think I can be happy, Brasidas, but I will always miss you_.


End file.
